In the midst of the multiverse, Michael saw something else. No, not saw. Felt. Sensed. A
presence there, dark and undulating, worming its way through the layers of Creation.
And, in one terrible moment, the presence saw him too.
Michael…the Black called out to him, beckoning him. Michael…
“No,” he whispered, twisting in the nothingness, trying to swim or fly away. But there
was nowhere to go. There was nothing. Yet, in the nothingness, the presence slithered for
him, caressing his soul, whispering to every cell in his body.
Read more in Rift Jump by Greg Mitchell, out now from Splashdown Darkwater. You can also find more tidbits, excerpts and interviews, at these participating blogs:
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